


Therapy

by issabella



Series: The Corgi Files [1]
Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Disabled Character, Corgis, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 06:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2681927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/issabella/pseuds/issabella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had taken Charles a long time to recover from the accident that cost him the use of his legs. Now he lives happily with his husband and former physiotherapist, Erik Lehnsherr. Everything could be perfect - but then he finds his dog is getting more atention from Erik in some respect and has to take measures.</p><p>One of my Corgi inspired ficlets I already posted on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a gifset of a corgi getting a massage on tumblr.  
> http://issabella.tumblr.com/post/97496976318/ohteepeeh-sizvideos-watch-it-in-video#notes

The sun was slowly setting over Westchester, its last rays illuminating the large oak door and the stairs that ended in the gravel path, that stretched around the Xavier mansion and trailed out towards the iron gates set in the walls surrounding the grounds. It all looked well kept but old, except for the metal ramp that was set up and covered part of the stairs and the narrow paved path that ran like a darker vein through the gravel.

The door was pushed open and a woman walked out. Her white hair seemed to glow in the setting sun and stood in contrast to her dark skin. She stepped onto the landing before she turned towards the man who followed her in his wheelchair.

“Looks like Erik is home already, that's his motorbike if I'm not mistaken.”

The man in the wheelchair craned his neck and a smile spread across his lips as he caught sight of the red and purple monstrosity on two wheels, that was parked to the side. 

“That's his, yes.”

“Well, I'll get going then. But don't be stubborn and call me if your back is cramping up again and I'll see if I can't squeeze in another therapy session. Or you could tell Erik to give you a proper massage. He should know by now, that you didn't only marry him to cut down the costs for physiotherapy.” She winked and her smile said she was only teasing. “I'll see you next week.”

“Thanks Ororo, and I'll call . See you.”

He watched her go and then stayed for a moment his gaze on the setting sun. He felt at peace. After the accident that had cost him the use of his legs, he never would have thought he would know that feeling again. There had been pain, despair, and he had tried to drown both in alcohol and painkillers. The struggle out of this downward spiral had been hard. He'd gone through physiotherapists almost as quickly as he had gone through bottles of alcohol before.

And then came Erik. He was unimpressed by Charles when, after sleepless nights caused by cramping muscles, his old friend despair reared its ugly head again, and he threw tantrums – or books. 

_Erik bent down to pick up the old (and valuable) illustrated version of 'Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea'. He took a closer look at the book and then put it into his bag. "It didn't deserve that. But if you want to throw it away, you won't mind me keeping it."_

_Charles stared aghast at the man. "You can't – I wasn't..." He pushed his wheelchair over to where Erik was standing and glared up at him, cursing the fact that he couldn't look him in the eye and that the muscles in his shoulders and back where protesting in a way that made it hard for him to move smoothly in his wheelchair. "Give it back!"_

_"Why should I? Clearly you didn't want it and weren't treating it with the respect it deserved."_

_Charles tried to push his chair forward, to make it bump against Erik's legs, but Erik simply stepped aside._

_Charles hit the armrest of his chair in frustration, tears suddenly stinging his eyes. "Give it back you ass-hole! You can't just come in here and – and treat me like that! Just because I can't do anything against it – you have no right to disrespect me. So give me back the damn book!"_

_"Is that so? Tell me Charles, why should I show you any respect if you can't show some respect for yourself?"_

The words had stung and hit home. Charles felt it was the point from where he finally had started to look forward again, instead of backward. His climb out of the pit of misery he had dug for himself was hard, but he had learned to see and appreciate the world around him again - and Erik.

That had brought on some new complications, but Charles had proven to be stubborn. As had Erik. Before they had started dating, Erik had insisted for Charles to get a new physiotherapist, refusing to mix work with his private life. And that had been that. Charles respected Erik's wish and even refrained from asking him for a casual back-rub when his muscles were cramping up from sitting in his chair, or his shoulders ached.

Two years later, when they got married Charles was sure it had been the right decision. He had a life again, complete with house, garden, husband and – well, no children, but a dog. 

Speaking of which, he should check on Nemo, who he always had to lock up in his study during his therapy sessions, otherwise the corgi would try to disturb them in every way possible. From digging through Ororo's bag and dragging her things out, scattering them across the room, to barking excitedly whenever Charles had to work with anything even vaguely ball-shaped, in hopes Charles would throw it.

To his surprise he found the study door open and wheeled inside.

He was prepared for large, wet, brown eyes, staring accusingly at him or even being barked at in protest. What he wasn't prepared for was to see Erik, sitting on the floor with his back propped against the couch, legs stretched out and Nemo lying in his lap like a sack of flour. Its front paws were sticking out on both sides and it had its eyes closed, while Erik's long fingers were rhythmically digging into the dog's furry neck, before he moved them to stroke his thumbs along Nemo's nose and over its head above the eye sockets.

Charles didn't know if he should laugh or protest, that he didn't get a massage from his husband but the dog got spoiled by him.

“I hope he is paying you well for that.”

Nemo opened his eyes and looked over at Charles, but showed no sign to get up and greet him like he usually did.

Erik looked up and gave Charles a warm smile, not stopping in massaging Nemo behind and under the jaws. “He pays me in dog treats. That's the real reason why the whole bag went missing last week.”

“Had I known you like them I would have bought more – and cut back on the chocolate chip cookies.” 

“Don't you dare! Those are vital for my health.”

Charles watched wistfully as Erik moved on to Nemo's front paw, which the dog let him manipulate without once trying to pull it back. Oh, Charles remembered how good Erik's hands felt massaging his back, shoulders, arms and fingers. “So that's all one has to do around here to get a massage from you? Bribe you with treats?”

“I thought you just had a session with Ororo?”

Charles moved his chair closer. “I did, and she's really great and we get along fine. She is a great replacement for you as my physiotherapist, but... “

Nemo's head nearly dropped to the side as Erik moved skilled fingers along the dog's small body and then massaged its shoulders. 

“But?”

Charles hesitated. “But I think I'm jealous of my dog.”

Erik raised an eyebrow but didn't stop in what he was doing. “Nemo was pretty much stressed out in here and wanted to run rampant in search for you, so I thought I could distract him and get him to relax. Positive conditioning, you know. Might also help convince him to stay here the next time you have physio.”

“Hm. Nemo sure won't mind you doing that again to him.”

Nemo didn't even twitch a large ear as Charles spoke its name, having fallen asleep under the warm hands petting him.

♥  
For the remainder of the day Charles was rather quiet and thoughtful and when evening came and they got ready for bed, Erik emerged from the bathroom, to find Charles not in their bedroom. 

Erik slid under the covers and waited, but Charles didn't appear. Finally Erik got out of bed again and, wearing only in his boxer-briefs, made his way through the dark corridors beyond the bedroom in search of Charles. Gladly he didn't have to go over the whole mansion, for just down the corridor there was light coming from the closed door to Charles' study. 

Erik opened it to find Charles sitting behind his desk with a book in front of him. He looked up right away as Erik entered, grinning, as if he had been waiting for him. “Finally!” He closed the book with a snap. 

“What are you doing here, I thought you wanted to go to bed?”

“Yes, but – looks like I got locked in the study and now I'm terribly agitated and stressed...”

Erik stared at Charles for a long moment before the words suddenly sank in. “What? Charles, why didn't you say you wanted me to give you a massage?”

Charles shrugged, feeling a little foolish now. “Well since we agreed you can't be my therapist and lover both...” He licked his lips.

Erik shook his head. “You never asked me to do that for you after we started dating. So I assumed you didn't really like to get a massage but only saw it as annoying part of the physiotherapy.”

Charles gaped. “What, but I..” He thought back, and had to admit that Erik might be right. He never asked Erik for a massage because he thought Erik would refuse. “But today, when I said I'm jealous of Nemo, you didn't react. I mean you didn't offer...”

Erik walked over to Charles and stepped behind his wheelchair to put both arms around Charles and lean close, so he could whisper against his ear. “I'm glad you no longer throw books at me to make a statement, but today you have been a little too subtle.”

Charles sighed and tilted his head to one side, giving Erik space to spread little kisses along his neck. 

“So that means...?”

“That means I have to take you to bed right away. And there I'll make sure you feel utterly relaxed. Can't have you unable to return to the study cause you were locked in here reading your favourite book for – 15 minutes?” He straightened up, but before Charles could protest at the loss of contact Erik's hands were at Charles' shoulders and neck, digging into the taut muscles there. 

A shameless moan escaped Charles mouth. “Oh yes!” 

Erik kept his promise once they were back in their bedroom. Though unlike Nemo, Charles didn't fall asleep and gave Erik a reward that was a lot better than dog treats – or even chocolate chip cookies.


End file.
